With Gren's arrival, Abel lapsed into a sort of bland silence once more. He received his share of the cake dully, muttering thanks and not smiling. His mind was elsewhere; it pondered upon what responsibilities he's be shackled with on a team. On guard duty back home, his family and friends were on call should he need them, but they operated independently for the most part. A splatter of desert trickled through the unorthodox chopsticks, near useless in his rough hands, and exploded on the floor. The event brought him back to the present.

Not wanting to spill any more (or potentially scarf it down all it once if he figured out how to use the chopsticks, lest he miss someone saying something that elicited a reaction from him) he set the cake down on a cabinet a few steps away. Abel then turned back to his teammates, leaning back on the furniture using his hands. Nobody had really spoken for a few moments, making the guardian wonder if they were having an emotional silence. In the course of this interlude, his eyes met those of Kuhaku, and he found a strange sort of emptiness there. He looked at Abel as if he were a stranger. No warmth, no satisfaction, no worrying, not that Abel deserved it. When Kuhaku's lips parted to speak, he was quick to listen.

The ensuing confused words made Abel's eyebrows shoot up. “Know...?” He repeated, befuddled. Did the faunus not remember them? An irritated look then passed his face. “Huh, good one. I'm not a big laugher, you know.”